


Distraction

by ineswrites



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drunken Kissing, First Kiss, Hydra Obadiah Stane, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-07-23 19:52:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16165823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineswrites/pseuds/ineswrites
Summary: "This is Brock Rumlow," Obie introduced the stranger standing on the other side of Tony’s living room. "He's an ex Navy Seal, currently working for SHIELD. One of the best specialists they have. They were so kind to lend him to you, to keep you—" and Tony felt a playful jab in his ribs "—safe."Tony didn't need protection; he was close to finishing the new Mark suit. But Brock Rumlow, he realized, didn't have to be for him as much as for the others; for Obie, for Pepper, for everyone who worried about him. Accept and make them feel lighter, he told himself, make them believe that they don't have to worry anymore, that he is in good hands. So Tony looked at Obie and nodded, prompting a big smile to show on his friend's face.





	Distraction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fancy_Dragonqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fancy_Dragonqueen/gifts).



> Happy birthday, love!

When Obie came down to Tony’s workshop to announce he had a surprise for him, Tony didn't expect it to be a hot guy.

“I’m not sure how to feel about this,” Tony said, aiming at a playful tone, all the while watching the stranger standing on the other side of his living room.

He was dressed in black and had a criss-cross harness on his chest and a holster on his thigh. Even if Tony hadn’t spotted those right away, his military stance would have given away his purpose, and he didn't like it, no matter how handsome he was with thick black hair styled up into a faux hawk and sharp cheekbones. He wasn't looking at Tony, but gazing out the windows. His face was perfectly neutral, but Tony could sense he also wasn't happy about being here.

"This is Brock Rumlow," Obie introduced him. "He's an ex Navy Seal, currently working for SHIELD. One of the best specialists they have. They were so kind to lend him to you, to keep you—" and Tony felt a playful jab in his ribs "—safe."

"I have Happy," Tony murmured under his breath though he was under no illusion that he couldn't be heard on the other side of the room.

"And Happy's great! He's great, but he's not trained, you know what I'm saying? Tony." Obie slung his arm around Tony's shoulders and turned them both away from Rumlow, offering a confidential smile. "Tony, after the Ten Rings? We can't risk something like this happening again. Happy can still do his thing, with Mr. Rumlow discreetly watching over you. You won't even notice him most of the time."

Tony didn't say anything for a moment. He didn't need protection; he was close to finishing the new Mark suit. But Brock Rumlow, he realized, didn't have to be for him as much as for the others; for Obie, for Pepper, for everyone who worried about him. Accept and make them feel lighter, he told himself, make them believe that they don't have to worry anymore, that he is in good hands. For now, at least.

So Tony looked at Obie and nodded, prompting a big smile to show on his business partner’s face.

 

*

 

Obie was already gone when Tony led Rumlow to a spare bedroom he would be staying at for the time being. Rumlow followed him silently, and Tony could sense the animosity.

"We don't have to be friends," he said as they entered the bedroom and Rumlow took a look around, "but it'd be easier for both of us if we got along."

Rumlow turned away from where he was inspecting the king-sized bed to face him and regarded him with a sharp gaze. Tony felt his back straighten and his chest puff out on their own in response.

"It's not personal," Rumlow said finally, and Tony wasn't entirely surprised by the smoky sound of his voice; it suited him. "I’m not just any specialist; I'm a commander of a whole group of specialists. Being sent away to babysit a rich guy like some personal bodyguard is degrading."

It stung, but Tony didn't let it get to him and tried to put himself in Rumlow's shoes.

"I can fire you," he offered, shrugging with his arms folded over his chest.

One corner of Rumlow's mouth raised in a lopsided smirk, letting in a little warmth onto his face. "Thanks," he said, "but no, you can't. It's Stane who hired me, not you, and besides," he continued, the smirk fading, "SHIELD wouldn't take me back so soon. They're interested in your safety, too. They want you to be, uh... a consultant. Coulson's been trying to reach you for days. He's gonna shit himself when he finds out I'm here."

Having no idea who Coulson was, Tony only nodded.

“So why did they send you?” he asked after a beat. From what Rumlow said, it was clear that he was overqualified to watch over Tony’s ass.

Rumlow frowned, looking down, and for a moment Tony was sure he wouldn’t answer.

“I’m mourning a friend’s death,” he said eventually, nodding his head as if encouraging himself to continue. “They want me to slow down a bit.”

“Fair enough. Uh, sorry. For your loss.”

Rumlow looked up and their eyes locked. He nodded his thanks, and for a fleeting moment, Tony felt they made some sort of connection before Rumlow averted his eyes and focused his attention back on the bed. Tony cleared his throat.

"If you need anything, just ask Jarvis. He runs the house, I just live here," he quipped.

Rumlow looked at him again with his eyebrows raised. "Jarvis?"

" _Hello, Mr. Rumlow,_ ” said Jarvis' automatized voice.

Rumlow didn't look startled or surprised, but his eyes swiped the ceiling as if he was looking for something. "Constant surveillance? I like that." His smile didn't reach his eyes.

"That's not what I use him for. But if something happens and you, let's say, pass out, he will notify me," Tony explained.

"And if somebody were to break in, won't he? I don't know why Stane thinks you need a bodyguard by your side at all times." Rumlow sobered down. "But I guess he can be hacked."

Tony couldn't suppress an arrogant huff. "You'd have to be a damn good hacker."

Rumlow regarded him with a raised eyebrow, a hint of amusement hiding behind his green eyes. "I know at least ten of those. Don't forget who I work for."

 

*

 

They hadn't really interacted since then.

Tony spent most of his time in the workshop, testing his suit. He never saw Rumlow around and in his free time, wondered what he was getting up to. Was he even leaving his room? He had to if he wanted to eat. Sometimes Tony would ask Jarvis and learn that Rumlow ordered something out, much more rarely that he cooked. Tony never even noticed that something disappeared from the fridge, but then, it wasn't a place he peeked into often. Most of the time, he wouldn't even remember he had a new live in bodyguard. Obie had been right about him; he was indeed discreet.

The second time they had a chance to interact was when Tony learned about the party he apparently hosted but wasn't invited to; he was already starting the engine when his car door opened and Rumlow slipped into the passenger seat.

"What—?" Tony started. In his indignation, he forgot who Rumlow even was for a second.

Rumlow grinned at him. "Going somewhere without me?"

Tony looked him up and down, scrutinizing his black dress jacket, white button-up and black dress pants. "You knew," he noticed flatly.

"About what?"

"The party." Tony turned around to look out the rear window as he drove out of his garage.

“Doesn’t everyone know?”

"I didn't."

"Huh." Rumlow fastened his seat belt as Tony drove fast towards the Disney Concert Hall. "Explains why you're only now driving there. I was briefed on your habits; you do like to party."

Tony didn't like that remark though he didn't know why—it was true, after all. Or, maybe, maybe it used to be true. Maybe he wasn't that person anymore.

Once he arrived at the Hall and got out of the car, he immediately spotted Obie on the red carpet, giving an interview.

"Get us drinks, won't you?" he threw to Rumlow over his shoulder as he strolled towards his business partner. "Scotch. I'm starving."

"What the hell?" Rumlow called, following him. "I'm your _bodyguard_ , not your servant! Get your own drinks."

Tony rolled his eyes, but didn't focus longer on him as he finally reached Obie. He tried to sound playful instead of accusing when they exchanged a few words. Obie promised to talk to him inside and clapped Rumlow on the shoulder as they were passing him, and Tony saw Rumlow make a face out of the corner of his eye.

Rumlow snorted on their way to the bar. "Watch out, Coulson's already waiting for you."

The bar was surprisingly uncrowded; a lone man stood at it, dressed in a suit that was very similar to that of Rumlow’s. He wasn't drinking.

"What's he like?" Tony murmured.

"He's gotten soft in his old years."

Tony pretended not to notice the agent as they reached the bar, but the same wasn't true for Rumlow.

"Coulson," he greeted him stiffly as Tony ordered his drink.

"Rumlow," Coulson responded in a gentle voice and immediately lost interest in his colleague. "Mr. Stark?"

"Yeah?" Tony glanced at him to be polite before turning around with a glass of scotch in hand.

Coulson kept talking, but Tony wasn't listening, looking for an escape from two SHIELD agents breathing down his neck. He spotted Pepper just a few feet away, talking to a friend.

"Yeah, great, you're totally right," he said, barely glancing at Coulson again. "We'll make a date, there's my assistant, I'm gonna discuss it with her right now." He pointed at Pepper and shoved his untouched glass into Rumlow's hand. "You can have it," he threw over his shoulder, already on his way.

"Are you kidding me, I'm at work!" Rumlow's annoyed voice followed.

 

*

 

Tony walked into his house like in a daze. He hadn't even had a glass, but he felt drunk as he grabbed a bottle of scotch and sank down to the floor, his back falling to rest against a kitchen counter.

The house was dark and quiet; even Jarvis didn't say a word. Tony took solace in it as he drank, Obadiah's words turning over in his head, _Who do you think locked you out? I was the one who filed the injunction against you. Who do you think locked you out? I was the one—_

The bottle was almost dry when Tony heard a noise at the front door. He would have tensed if he wasn't so completely wasted.

"Stark?!" he heard Rumlow's smoky yell. "Are you in there? You better be, and you better be safe. I do not appreciate you running away from me."

Tony didn't respond. It crossed his mind that maybe Rumlow shouldn't see him like this, but frankly, he didn't care.

He listened to Rumlow's footsteps sounding first across the hall, then up the stairs to Tony's bedroom, until Jarvis helpfully turned on the lights in the kitchen, cluing Rumlow in. The footsteps stopped just at the minibar. Tony expected a jab, or a smart remark. Some judgement. But it never came; instead, Rumlow crouched before him.

"Stark?" he asked gently, looking at his face closely. "Hey. You okay? The fuck happened?"

Tony looked up at that handsome face. His eyes looked more brown than green in the dim light.

"I just learned," there was just a slight slur to Tony's voice, "my father's close friend—my close friend stole my company from me."

Rumlow cocked his head. "There are no friends where business is involved," he said with his eyebrow raised, matter-of-factly, as if he was lecturing a child.

Tony waved it off. "That's not the worst." He took the last gulp of scotch and threw the bottle at the wall, or tried to; it slid out of his hand and rolled away. Rumlow tracked its trajectory until it bumped into the fridge and stilled. "The worst is that he was double-dealing under the table, and you work for him, and this is a mess..."

"I work for SHIELD," Rumlow corrected him. "So he lied to you; it happens all the time. You can't let it get to you. That's quite enough of moping, come on."

He grabbed Tony's arm and pulled him up to his feet. Tony braced his hands against his chest to keep himself from faltering, still looking into his eyes. Rumlow was only about an inch taller, but also much more brawny, and his hold on Tony was strong. A whisky-fueled idea that he could use some distraction came to Tony's mind, and Rumlow was hot, and right there, so close that Tony needed to lean forward only a little to kiss him.

Rumlow remained still beneath him as he tasted his lips, but that didn't discourage him. His hands slid down the soft fabric of his button-up, exploring the muscular chest hidden beneath, and when they reached the waistband of his dress pants, Rumlow's mouth finally opened for Tony's tongue to slip in...

Only he grabbed his wrists and pushed him away.

"That's enough," he murmured and gently pushed Tony towards the door. "Let's get you to bed. You need to sleep it off," he added after a moment, making sure Tony wouldn't get the wrong idea.

Once they climbed the stairs to the spacious bedroom, Tony dropped onto his bed right away, sideways with his feet still resting on the floor. Half-conscious, he tried to undo his bow tie. Rumlow watched him struggle for a moment, then rolled his eyes.

"You need help with that?"

Tony was positive Rumlow didn't need to straddle his thighs in order to get at the stubborn bow tie, but he wasn't complaining.

"This shouldn't be me doing this," Rumlow murmured, working the bow tie off Tony's neck. "It should be your assistant, but it's me. If you throw up on me, I want a raise."

He was smirking though, and Tony would have been surprised by that playful side of him if he was more sober. As it was, he felt encouraged enough to let his hands move up Rumlow's muscular thighs and back to cup his ass.

"Yeah, make yourself nice and comfortable there, why not," Rumlow murmured lowly, and Tony smiled goofily at him.

"Wanna—”

"No. But thanks for asking. I'll ignore the fact you're so drunk you'd fuck a goat if it was willing and take that as a compliment. Now, are the buttons too much for you to handle, too?"

Tony didn't even try to check, just nodded to see what would happen.

"Of course." Rumlow started unbuttoning his shirt, and the blue light from the partially uncovered arc reactor illuminated his face. Huh. Tony forgot about it. "I'm a special forces operative and I'm undressing a drunk billionaire." He paused, frowning. "This sounds way hotter than it is." When the last button was opened, Rumlow touched the edge of the reactor. "What's this, some kinda jewelry for rich people?"

"It works like a magnet," Tony slurred. "It's drawing shrapnel away from my heart."

Rumlow looked at him closely, any signs of playfulness gone from his face. "You really went through shit, didn't you?"

Tony shrugged.

"SHIELD wants to know how you got out," Rumlow said. "That's why Coulson follows you around like a duckling."

"I'm a genius," Tony replied, closing his eyes.

Rumlow snorted. "Yeah. A genius who can't undo his belt."

Tony was vaguely aware of Rumlow's hands unbuckling it for a short moment before he passed out.

 

*

 

 _“I am Iron Man._ ”

Alexander Pierce turned off the TV hanging on the wall in his office. He rested his elbows on his desk and his chin on his folded hands.

"What do you think?"

Rumlow straightened up in his chair. "Sir?"

Pierce gestured at the TV where Tony Stark had just admitted to flying around the world in a weaponized suit. "Is he a threat to Hydra?"

Rumlow hesitated. Was Iron Man a threat to everything he stood for? Probably, yeah. But did he want to admit it and watch another good man die because of him?

"Not if we play it right."

Pierce watched him with his icy blue eyes for a while, and Rumlow did his best not to squirm in his chair. Not many people made him feel like his life depended on them, but Pierce was one of them.

"Stane had tried to assimilate him for decades," he said finally. "Do you think you can do better than him, Agent Rumlow?"

The doubt in his voice was clear, and Brock couldn't blame him after his recent failure. But if he didn't want Stark to die that night, he had to convince his boss to trust him.

"Stane got blinded by his greed. He didn't care about Hydra in the end, just his own matters." He paused. "I've learned from my past mistakes. I know exactly what to do, and what to avoid."

Pierce kept staring at him for an awfully long time before finally nodding and reclining in his armchair. "I'd like to have those suits, but they're not as valuable as the creator himself. I'll give you a second chance, Rumlow. Do your best."

Rumlow tipped his head. "Thank you, sir."

Seeing that Pierce lost interest in him, Rumlow stood up and left his office.


End file.
